


Sirens in the Beat of Your Heart

by magic_number_3



Category: Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, F/M, Slow Burn, but with more swearing and murder, the ship you know and love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 09:47:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23849194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magic_number_3/pseuds/magic_number_3
Summary: Criminals aren’t the only ones with blood on their hands… After the death of the infamous Romanov family, Anastasia finds herself in acquaintances with one Dmitry Sudayev, who, much unlike her, has spent his upbringing on the streets. His recent introduction into the city’s underworld makes him perfect for the job of hiding the sole heir to the Romanov fortune, but also in over his head. That’s not even considering undercover Detective Gleb Vaganov, who might have a better chance of finding the responsible party within the walls of his own police station than out on the streets.
Relationships: Dimitri | Dmitry/Anya | Anastasia Romanov (Anastasia 1997 & Broadway)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 19





	1. Anastasia

14 hours.  
14 hours and Anastasia Romanov will be free of this prison.  
It’s a nice prison of course, they had bought the hotel suite with her family’s money. But still a prison. Right now all she wants is a distraction from this hotel she’s trapped in with nothing to do but sit and wait for the hours to go by. The annoying buzzing of the television from the next room is not good enough. It feels like ages. Time, Anastasia decides, moves as slow as a snail. If it moved faster, she’d be out of this prison and the events that occurred only hours ago would be even farther behind her. It had only been hours. Last night, everything was different. She had a family, she had a home, she was happy, she was – she needs a distraction.  
Anastasia carefully climbs out of bed, wincing at the pain in her side, and grabs her fur coat that lays at the end of the bed. Anastasia fumbles for a moment, staring at the blood-stained hole in the back of the coat where the bullet left her body. She stares at it, remembering the events of last night. Her and her sisters laughing as her parents and Alexei followed behind them. Then loud footsteps. Shouts that turned into screams. Gunshots. Blood, so much blood…  
There’s a loud crash from the television and Anastasia is brought back to the present, slipping the coat on and shuffling her way to the doorway into the main room. She sees the man Vlad had passed her off to – Dmitry was the name Vlad had given her – staring at the television. Anastasia tiptoes to her shoes by the door, but she isn’t quiet enough. Dmitry jumps out of his seat and rushes to stand between her and the door. In her current physical state, he’s able to do it with ease.  
“You can’t go out there.”  
The television buzzes.  
“I’m going out.”  
“Did you not hear what I just said?”  
“I can’t stay cooped up in here all day.”  
“Everyone is looking for you.”  
“I’ll be careful. I know my way around cops.”  
“It’s not just the cops.”  
His words are firm, but his voice says otherwise. She intimidates him. Or maybe the entire situation intimidates him, he’s clearly new at this, but she likes the former more than the latter. She likes to think that she still has this sort of power over people, even when she feels not so powerful at all.  
“I know,” Anastasia says.  
“Then you know it’s too dangerous for you to go outside. And I don’t think you should be going anywhere in your condition.”  
She rolls her eyes. All of that intimidation isn’t doing anything for her now. Anastasia glares at Dmitry a little harder. It seems to work, somewhat. She swears she sees the look in his eyes soften.  
“Look, the cops aren’t looking for me.” He reasons, “I can go out, get you whatever you need.”  
It isn’t enough.  
“I can’t stay here.” Anastasia spits out each syllable forcefully. Eventually, he’ll give in. She knows it.  
“Miss, I don’t know how many times I –“  
“My family was just murdered!” She tries to push him, yet she’s the one that ends up stumbling backward.  
Dmitry doesn’t dare say a word. Even though Anastasia is the one who said them, her own words hit her like a ton of bricks.  
“My family,” Anastasia breathes shallowly, “has been murdered. What I need is a distraction.”  
Her hands shake, and she turns away, shoving them in her pockets. Anastasia hopes Dmitry doesn’t notice. He does.  
“I’m sorry, miss.”  
“I’m sorry doesn’t fix it.” She snaps.  
“I know.”  
Anastasia’s family is dead. She remembers the gunshots. And the screams. Her father and mother. Olga, Tatiana, Maria… little Alexei. All dead. There’s a godforsaken son of a bitch still out there that could aim well enough to take away the lives of her entire family. But not well enough to take hers too. Why does she remain?  
“Miss, I really am sorry, but you know I can’t let you leave. It’s for your own safety.”  
The people on the television scream at each other.  
Anastasia begins to feel lightheaded, and when she stumbles, Dmitry steadies her.  
“Miss…”  
“It’s fine. I’m fine.” She pants, “I’m just tired.”  
Slowly, they make their way to the couch Dmitry had been sitting in moments ago. She collapses onto it and winces. A moment later, Dmitry is in front of her with a glass of water and some pills in his hand. She doesn’t recall him taking the time to go get it.  
“This will help the pain. If you would let me, I can take a look.”  
Anastasia sits up straighter, grimacing at the way the movement agitates her wound and takes the pills and water.  
“I’m fine.”  
She hands the glass back.  
“I think it would be good to just check that there –“  
“Would you turn that damn TV off?” She interrupts.  
There’s a click of the remote and the room goes silent. Anastasia sighs and closes her eyes, sinking into the couch further.  
“Let me take a look at your… injury.”  
Anastasia nods, resigned. She opens up her coat, and Dmitry’s breath hitches.  
“Vlad told me you’d already been patched up. Is there still supposed to be that much blood?”

Eventually, slowly, the time passes. Dmitry replaces her bandages with fresh ones, and Anastasia falls in and out of consciousness for a few hours. Eventually, she works up the energy to ask him to go out again. She doesn’t get the answer she wants.  
“Now can I please go out for a walk.”  
“I’m sorry, but –“  
“Sure you are.” Anastasia sighs, “Fine. But at least bother to put something good on the damn television.”  
Those are the only words that pass between them until nightfall. Dmitry stands up.  
“Since you’ve been begging all day, I think it’s finally time to let you out.”  
“Haha.” Anastasia grumbles, “At least I can finally get some fresh air.”  
Anastasia stands up, noticing her pockets are feeling a lot lighter. She opens her mouth, but before she can say anything Dmitry answers her.  
“On the table.”  
“You frisked me?”  
“I couldn’t take your jacket off, but once I emptied your pockets it was a lot easier to patch you up.”  
She huffs but doesn’t bother to respond. Anastasia trudges to the table and puts everything back.  
“Are you ready to go?” She asks impatiently.  
“Yeah, just packing some things up. I’ll come back for it all later.”  
After she got passed off to the next person for safekeeping, Rostov. She did know him, and she preferred his company much more than Dmitry’s. She couldn’t wait.

The pair make their way out of the hotel and onto the street, and the hairs on the back of Anastasia’s neck stand up. She’s been wanting to leave the hotel all day, but now all she wants to do is rush back inside. What if someone spots her? They could tip off the police, or worse.  
Silently and for what seems to take forever, she and Dmitry walk down the street, trying to seem casual and keep their heads down. They reach the meeting spot Vlad had told her and turn into the alleyway, attempting to appear inconspicuous. It’s empty.  
Anastasia pulls her coat tighter as she feels a chill down her spine. Something isn’t right.  
“This is the meeting spot, right?” Dmitry pipes up.  
“Yes. Why isn’t Rostov here yet?”  
They stand in silence for a few more moments. At the opening to the alley, cars rush by, people walk past, and Anastasia’s thoughts begin to spiral. They could be spotted at any moment. This was unlike Rostov, he knows the intensity of the situation. And he was never late.  
An unfamiliar figure turns into the alleyway.  
Dmitry sighs “Oh good, that must be –“  
Anastasia does her best to push Dmitry to the side, but she’s still weak and he’s more dimwitted than she gives him credit for.  
“Miss, I don’t understand, what’s going on?”  
“Evening, ma’am.” A deep voice comes from the unnamed figure. “Rostov won’t be making it tonight.”  
The man grabs Anastasia, and she yelps in pain. Dmitry finally seems to get an idea of what’s going on.  
“You leave her alone!”  
“Oh yeah?” The man grins, “What are you going to do about it?”  
This attacker was large and lumbering, and Dmitry was, well, skinny as a stick. She would have to get herself out of this mess. Anastasia begins being dragged down the alleyway, and she does everything she can to fight him, but if Dmitry was a stick compared to him, she’s a blade of grass.  
“Would you stop it!” He grumbles.  
She sees him pull something out of his pocket, dark and shiny. He points the gun at Dmitry, who’s racing towards them. Anastasia brings her knee up and slams it into her attacker’s groin. He releases his hold on her, and she steps on his foot for good measure, but it doesn’t buy her as much time as she had hoped. She jumps away and he grabs at her. Though Anastasia’s just out of reach, he is able to scratch at her and ends up tearing off her necklace, pearls spilling on the cold ground. She reaches for her own pocket as he stands back up and points his gun at her.  
“You’re going to pay –“  
The sound of Anastasia’s own gun brings everything to a standstill. The stranger falls to the ground like a sack of potatoes, while she and Dmitry stand frozen.  
“We need to get out of here.” She utters.  
Anastasia is beginning to think her time in Dmitry’s care is going to be a lot longer than she originally had hoped.


	2. Dmitry

Dmitry didn’t sign up for this. But he also knows anything mafia-related tends to turn sour. A lesson he didn’t learn well enough the first time, apparently, so maybe he did sign up for this.  
Ms. Romanov is crouched on the ground, doing… well, Dmitry can’t quite tell what she is doing.  
“I thought you said we needed to get out of here?”  
“I did.”  
And Dmitry stands there and waits, as if that answer makes perfect sense, because she is Anastasia Romanov, youngest daughter of the Romanov family, and he’s, well, Dmitry. But the longer he stands there, the faster his heart races. Despite Ms. Romanov’s firm tone, the ambiguity of her words does nothing to calm his nerves. The police are sure to show up any second, and if they really have any chance of getting away - a light flashes in Dmitry’s eye and he loses his train of thought. Seemingly coming from the reflection of a pearl from Ms. Romanov’s now broken necklace. Is she picking them up?  
“Miss, we really must be going.”  
“One minute.” She responds.  
“There’s got to be at least 50 of those pearls, and if we have any chance of-“  
“Fine!” Interrupting him seems to be a habit of hers, “fine, let’s go.” She grumbles.  
Ms. Romanov aggressively snatches his arm and, after checking to make sure the coast is clear, pulls him out of the alleyway. They attempt to be inconspicuous, but how innocent can two people fleeing a murder scene really look? At this rate, Dmitry’s heart is going to explode. He is way in over his head.  
Dmitry hears the police siren before he sees it, and it takes everything for him not to jump out of his skin and run in the other direction when he sees the car turn the corner. The red and blue lights nearly blind him in contrast to the night sky, reflecting off the dark asphalt. The sound of the siren pierces his eardrums. Passersby lift their heads up at the excitement. Ms. Romanov grips his arm a little tighter. He’s pretty sure it’s going to leave a bruise, but he doesn’t dare mention it.  
“So, what sounds good for breakfast tomorrow? There’s a bakery a couple of streets over someone recommended to me, says you haven’t seen the city until you go to a genuine local food establishment.”  
Dmitry isn’t sure if the words come from an attempt to act natural, to ease his nerves, or something different entirely, but he doesn’t analyze it too much.  
A woman passing glares at the pair when Ms. Romanov nearly stops in her place. Ms. Romanov looks at Dmitry, confused, “Sorry?”  
The cop car speeds closer, and another comes from farther down the street. He swears he can hear another one coming from behind them. This time, Dmitry pulls Ms. Romanov along in an effort to keep moving.  
“Head in the clouds again? I was talking about how the nice man we met at the show recommended that bakery on… oh, I think I’ve forgotten the street name. Do you remember what he said?”  
“I - I can’t say I do.”  
The first car rushes past, and Dmitry resists the urge to cover his own ears at the sound. They reach their hotel just in time for the second cop car to pass them as well. He and Ms. Romanov relax a little. They got away. For now.  
The doorman greets them “Hello Miss Ro-“  
Dmitry points him a glare and the greeter stops mid-sentence. Maybe he's remembered that her family was recently murdered and that the killer might still be looking to finish the job.  
“I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.” The doorman attempts to recover, but his voice wavers.  
Dmitry can't tell if she even noticed the interaction.

As the two of them make their way up to their hotel room, Dmitry thinks about the call he’d received 24 hours prior. When Vlad had called him in need of an urgent favor, he hadn’t expected it to be anything like this. But that doesn't mean he can't put two and two together from Vlad's tone of voice.  
“You know I want nothing to do with your 'personal but professional' business.”  
“Who said this has anything to do with that?”  
“Vlad, the Romanov’s own everything north of-”  
“You’re the only one I can trust with this.  
“With what?  
“I need you to spend a night protecting Anastasia Romanov.”  
Dmitry sits up in his bed, moving away the pillow he’d been blissfully sleeping on only a minute ago. Then the ringing of his phone awoken him to this mess.  
“You can’t be serious.”  
“There’s been an incident. There has to be a mole and you’re the only person I know with no ties to any of the powerful families in town.”  
“Yeah and I’d like to keep it that way. Get someone else.”  
“The entire Romanov family has been murdered. Only she remains.”  
A chill goes down his spine at Vlad’s words. Then only the static of silence.  
“Son, you know I don’t make you do anything you don’t want to. I’ve always respected you wanting to stay out of this line of work, but this isn’t about the Romanovs. It’s about a girl who’s just lost everything, and I have a feeling you know something about that.”  
Vlad always knew what to say. This time was no different, that's for sure. Dmitry curses under his breath.  
“You could finally say we’re even.” He adds.  
Dmitry remembers opening his mouth to argue _You told me I didn’t owe you anything._ But instead, he just sits back, resting his head on the wall with a soft _thud._ Vlad was right. For years, Dmitry had tried to make up for everything the man had done for him, despite Vlad’s insistence otherwise.  
“It’s just for 24 hours.”

_24 hours my ass,_ Dmitry thinks. What a load of bullshit.

“What was that all about?”  
The pair finally reach the hotel room they had only been in moments before, but what feels like ages. At least they're finally able to relax.  
“Sorry?  
Ms. Romanov smiles playfully at him, “The nice man from the show? A bakery, I believe he suggested?”  
“Oh,” Dmitry clears his throat, “I just thought it might make us look less suspicious. Had us thinking about something other than the attempted murder, at least.”  
“First off, it was self-defense, you know that. Secondly, you sure that’s all it was? You weren’t” She pauses, relishing the moment, “nervous, were you?”  
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He won’t allow himself to prove her right, but she seems to draw her own conclusion.  
She raises her eyebrows.  
“Okay,” Dmitry starts looking for a subject change, “Obviously this Rostov guy wasn’t a great person to put our trust in-”  
“Rostov is not a mole.” Ms. Romanov responds forcefully, before thinking about the alternative option, and softening, “Something.. something must have happened to him. But he wasn’t a mole. He would never betray my family like that.”  
Dmitry nods, “Of course. What I was getting at is we need to find a new solution for where you’ll be staying tonight.”  
Romanov drops her coat on the sofa chair, “We can’t just stay here? I get the idea of not staying in one place for too long, but what’s one extra night?”  
Dmitry thinks it over, but it’s a risky decision at best.  
“There’s a crime scene down the street – that we created, by the way – and the doorman saw us come and go right during the time of the crime. How long will it take before the cops are at our door?”  
“My family has taken care of this business for years, there’s no way they’d turn us in!  
“But can they be sure they’ll continue to be taken care of?”  
The implication of Dmitry’s own words pang in his chest as she softens. He’d said it as gently as he could imagine, but it didn’t lessen the harsh reminder of her family.  
“You’re right,” she replies, her mouth in a fine line as she picks up her coat, “Let’s go.”  
Dmitry realizes they got nothing.  
Nothing but themselves and the gun Vlad had given him that’s weighing down in his right pocket. Dmitry remembers Miss Romanov’s own gun, her gun that had just shot a man, who was now bleeding out on the cold pavement in the alley just a few streets over...  
With finality he walks out of the room, like doing so will leave the thoughts in his head behind. He turns to look at her. She is still in the room, her coat still in her hands, and the burst of confidence he had deflates.  
“Well? Where to, Miss?”  
She remains silent and unmoving.  
“Best not to stand around for too long, where to?”  
“You said it yourself. What’s to stop any of my family’s clients from turning us over?”  
_Shit,_ Dmitry thinks. This was not the way he wanted this to go.  
“There has to be someone.”  
“Why do you think Vlad called you?”  
The words echo in his head. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Alright then. I’ll lead the way.”  
Dmitry had been right. Getting in bed with the Romanov family – figuratively, anyway – is turning out to be a lot more than he signed up for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for slow updates... but thank you for reading!


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